Rancher's Baby. Anne Marie Winston

since they would be raising their son together. Together. The word brought a whole host of interesting possibilities to mind, but he pushed them aside to consider a more mundane matter.

      He wanted to be involved in his son’s life. Not just hovering on the periphery but to be there on a daily basis. There to witness the first step, the first word, to set him on his first pony and to teach him to ride and rope. Even more important, he wanted Ryan to have the stability of a family of his own, to know he was loved, to feel that he was special.

      He knew what it was like to spend your life wondering what had been more important to your parents than the child they had created and abandoned. Ryan was never going to have to face that.

      He and Dulcie had created Ryan. For the rest of their lives they would be tied by that bond. He might as well admit it—there was only one conclusion to the thoughts racing around in his head. He was going to marry her.

      Amazingly, the thought didn’t bother him. He’d avoided commitment like the plague all his life because he hadn’t thought he’d ever want the responsibility of children, and everybody knew marriage nearly always meant kids. But in the few short hours since he’d been presented with his son’s existence, he’d been touching on the idea like a skittish colt who wanted sugar but was afraid of the hand that held it. Coming close, dancing away, drawing near again but not quite able to complete the leap of faith it took. Well, he guessed he was leaping now.

      He couldn’t imagine marriage to another woman, but marrying Dulcie seemed like a good idea to him. He’d spent enough time with her to know that she soothed him rather than irritated. And God knew they were a good match in bed.

      The mere pairing of “bed” and “Dulcie” in the same thought was all it took to bring back vivid memories of the night she’d lain with him. Too vivid. He shifted in his seat and deliberately transferred his gaze to the squirming infant she was lifting from the pine cradle.

      Ryan might be the reason for the marriage, but the more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed. Then, when he was away on assignment, Ryan still would have one parent and a lot of support and stability in his life.

      “Come into my study? I’d like to talk a little more.”

      Dulcie’s brother was looking at him expectantly, and he realized Day had been addressing him. The man clearly was used to giving orders and having people jump.

      Slowly, he pushed away his plate and rose. “The meal was delicious. Thank you.”

      Angel smiled graciously as she began to clear away the supper dishes. Dulcie avoided his eyes, but she looked worried about something. He promised himself that as soon as he could get away from Day, he’d talk to her some more.

      He followed the other man toward the front of the house and into an office.

      “Have a seat.”

      The tone in Day’s voice wasn’t an invitation but an order. What the hell was up here? Tye ignored the command, leaning against a sturdy bookshelf and consciously adopting a relaxed pose. “Thanks, I’ll stand.” He looked at the computer equipment spread across the desk. “What software do you use for your breeding program?”

      “I didn’t bring you in here to compare work techniques,” Day said. His teeth clicked together audibly over the last word. “You’re upsetting my sister. Angel told me Dulcie wasn’t expecting you.”

      “She didn’t know I was coming,” he admitted. “I thought I’d drop in and see her while I was down this way.”

      “You’ll have to leave tomorrow,” Day said abruptly. “She’s a new mother and a recent widow. She needs rest and no disruptions.”

      “I’m aware of Dulcie’s needs. But she and I have some catching-up to do. I planned on a longer visit.”

      Day’s face darkened. “My sister has had enough man trouble in her life to last her quite a while. If you’re courtin’, she’s not interested.”

      Damn. He should have known this wasn’t going to be easy. There was no help for it but to tell the truth. “I’m not exactly courtin’.” He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I’m Ryan’s father. And I’m hoping to stay awhile.”

      The bald words ricocheted off every wall in the room. A second crawled by, then two. From the kitchen, the clatter of dishes seemed abnormally loud. Day’s face would have made a great photograph, if Tye was into portraits. He’d title it Shock Absorbing.

      “Is that true?” Day’s sharp demand wasn’t aimed at him. Tye turned, seeing for the first time that Dulcie stood behind him in the doorway.

      She nodded, apparently speechless, but he could read pure outraged anger in her expression.

      “But…what about Lyle…?” Day was floundering, apparently trying to figure out how to phrase his questions in a delicate manner. At any other time, Tye would have found his efforts immensely amusing.

      “Tye and I weren’t…we didn’t…we were just friends until my divorce was final,” Dulcie informed her brother in a steely tone. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

      Good for her. Intent on Dulcie, Tye never saw the fist that connected with his jaw. He didn’t even get his hands out in time to break the fall, and Day’s punch knocked him flat on his back on the hard wooden floor.

      He lay there, his head throbbing. The headache from the accident that had been held at bay after his nap returned in force. He was seeing three and four of everything, but his hearing was unimpaired and he had no trouble deciphering the raw fury beneath the blistering curses that Day Kincaid was heaping on his head.

      “Get up,” Day said through his teeth. “Get up so I can knock you down again. You’re not fit to lick my sister’s boots. It might be okay in Montana to use a woman without worrying about consequences, but around here we do things differently. Real men don’t leave their women to face pregnancy and birth alone. Real men don’t father bas—”

      “Day, stop it!” The command was a harsh scream. “He’s injured. You might have done permanent damage to his head.” Dulcie was kneeling at Tye’s side, her fingers gently exploring the spot on his jaw where Day’s fist had landed.

      Day uttered a growl of contempt. “I figure that would be an improvement.” He glared at Tye. “Get up.”

      Tye climbed to his feet, despite Dulcie’s protests. He still saw two of the furious dark-haired man, but he did his best to focus on one of them. “You can pound on me some more if it makes you feel better. I probably deserve it.” He paused, then looked at Dulcie, holding her gaze with his own as he spoke to her brother. “But I won’t fight back. Dulcie’s already too upset. She needs rest and relaxation right now. Having the two of us at each other’s throat won’t help.”

      Dulcie’s big brown eyes were fastened on his face. Though he was speaking to her brother, he was communicating with her, as well. I’m sorry. Let me try to make this right.

      Day cleared his throat.

      Dulcie shook her head slightly, as if she was coming out of a trance. Her expression darkened again as she stomped across the room toward Day. “How dare you!”

      “Huh?” Day looked taken aback by her attitude. “What did I do?”

      “I can fight my own battles.” Dulcie shook her finger in his face, so close that he flinched and blinked. “Stop pretending to be a protective older brother.”

      “I’m not pretending.” Day’s tone was injured.

      “I know.” Dulcie’s voice softened slightly. “And it’s nice to know you care. But I can straighten out my life without any interference from you.” She slipped behind him and gave him a hefty shove that barely succeeded in jostling his solidly muscled frame. “Now go away. Tye and I need to talk.”

      “All right. But I want to say one last thing to lover boy here.”